


Force of Nature

by Novkat21



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Blood, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Feral Derek Hale, Getting Together, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mating Bond, Pack Feels, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Hale Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 13:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novkat21/pseuds/Novkat21
Summary: “Yeah, it did. It attacked you, too. Nearly killed you. If Erica hadn't shown up…”The young man turned to them once more and reached for his father's hand, gripping it as tight as possible. “I didn't know it was there or that it would happen, I swear. But we had everything set up just in case something like that happened. Are the others ok?” The sheriff and Erica shared a look and Stiles felt his stomach drop. “What? Who?”“Derek went missing after I brought you here,” Erica explained. “Peter said he just ran off suddenly last night before we even called them. He's not answering his phone and we can't find him anywhere.”





	Force of Nature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anefi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anefi/gifts).



> Happy early birthday, Anefi!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> ♡
> 
> Not beta read so all mistakes are mine!

A light breeze whispered past him, leaves rustling above. His steps seemed loud in the quiet surrounding him, his eyes scanning through the trees and underbrush. Daylight was fading fast and he wasn't sure how close he was to his destination. He tapped his finger against the back of his phone, his mind racing through different ideas of how he could be of more use to the pack.

Scott's voice sounded loudly in the back of his head, chastising him, and he stumbled. He took a deep breath, reminding himself why he was doing this, and continued on.

When the sky glowed a deep orange, the sound of roaring water reached his ears, relief filling him. He picked up his pace and followed the sound, barely able to see in the dark forest. A few moments later, he stepped into an opening, a small body of water a few feet away with a waterfall crashing down into it. Stiles sighed and slid his jacket off along with his plaid button up. He pulled his shirt over his head as the breeze caressed his skin. He wandered closer to the waterfall, a chill running up his spine as he was hit by its mist. Glancing back, he was only greeted by trees, bushes and other underbrush, their shadows looming over the forest floor. He braced himself and stepped into the water, hissing as the cold liquid soaked through his pant leg.

_For Derek._

That one thought had him hurrying into further into the water, the roar of the waterfall almost deafening as he stood before it. He reached his hand through only to have his arm shoved down and out by the force of the water. He gritted his teeth and attempted the same thing, forcing his arm to stay in place. He felt the warmth in his bosom rise and he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth slowly slither through his body until it reached the top of his head. He opened his eyes and could now easily see through the waterfall, little rocks and random pieces of trash glowing lightly and easily seen scattered across the ground. A bright orange shimmer caught his gaze and he bent down, reaching further until he could grasp it. Once he felt it securely in his grip, he shot back and nearly lost his footing, feeling the warmth ooze back into his bosom, vision returning to normal. He stood in the water for another moment, completely forgetting the cold, as he uncurled his fingers from the rock. It was long and oval shaped, the edges nearly sharp as an arrowhead. The light it had given off under the waterfall had vanished with the warmth, but it still had a strange silver coloring to it.

He trekked back to his clothes and pulled his shirts and jacket back on, sliding the rock into his pants pocket. The wind had picked up slightly, sending shivers over his whole body, so he hurried back through the trees to his jeep. It took him about twenty minutes and he worried he'd gotten lost, but the blue machine appeared and he nearly sagged with relief.

He climbed into his vehicle, turned it on and blasted the heat, rubbing his hands together. A muffled bell sounded and he pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, unlocking it with one flick of his finger.

_Scott [9:47 PM]: I'm sorry._

Stiles snorted and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat before he shifted gears and drove off toward the main road.

 

About thirty minutes later, he parked his jeep and hopped out, making the trek up the stairs. He reached the top where the loft was and slid the door open. Everyone inside turned toward him, Derek nodding at him once. He stepped inside and closed the door behind himself before making his way across the large, spacious room. Metal clanged as Peter sauntered down the spiral staircase, taking a seat on the last few steps. Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Derek stood around the table as Stiles withdrew the stone from his pocket. He set it down heavily and looked at them all in turn.

“This is the key to the barrier,” he said firmly.

“A rock?” Isaac asked in disbelief, eyebrows raised in question.

Stiles frowned when Peter and Erica let out a few quiet chuckles. “It's not just a rock. It's a metamorphic stone. It can change with fluctuating heat and pressure so if we just add a little bit of magic-”

“You could create a barrier for the preserve,” Derek finished, staring down at the stone thoughtfully.

“For Beacon Hills.”

“You're not strong enough for that, are you?” Boyd inquired, concern lacing his voice. “You’d need help.”

“Boyd's right,” Peter said. “None of us can help you, though. You'd need a strong bond. Like Scott.”

Stiles glared at the elder, hands clenching into fists at his side. “I'm not going to Scott.”

“Don't be like that. I'm sure he didn't mean-”

Derek interrupted, voice stern. “Peter.” Peter raised his hands in an innocent gesture, glancing away when Derek's eyes flashed. The alpha turned back to Stiles as he let out a breath. “Is there anything else you need for this?”

Stiles shook his head. “Everyone needs to stay within town limits, though. It didn't say what would happen if you weren't, but I don't want to risk it.”

Derek nods his agreement, standing upright and crossing his arms over his chest. “We need to do this as soon as possible. Does tonight work for everyone?”

A few nods and grunts are passed around, then all eyes turn to Stiles once more. He took a breath and looked at all of them in turn.

“I only have one shot at this. We have to get it right the first time. I'll need someone at each entrance to town and someone to guard me.”

“Boyd and Isaac, you'll take the south end. I'll take the north with Peter, leaving Erica with you. Sound good?”

Stiles and Erica exchanged a look and Stiles grinned. “I get Catwoman? Hell yeah.”

Erica returned his grin as Derek dismissed them. Peter snuck back upstairs while Isaac, Boyd and Erica wandered over to the couch. Stiles slipped the stone into his pocket and grabbed his bag, turning to leave.

“Stiles.” The young man halted and glanced back at Derek. “I know you don't want to talk to him, but don't you think he should know?”

Stiles scowled. “He left me for dead, Derek. If it weren't for you and your pack, I wouldn't be here. I honestly don't care anymore. I stuck my neck out for him time and time again and got shit back. If you feel he needs to know, you tell him.”

Derek sighed and walked with him out of the loft and down to his jeep. “He did you wrong, I won't deny that. And he's the biggest idiot of them all, but he's your best friend. Do you really think you would be okay with knowing something happened to him?”

Stiles shoved his bag in the back seat and slowly turned to Derek. “I wouldn't be. But I'm not going to go out of my way to help him. Not when he couldn't do the same for me.”

Derek nodded then opened the driver’s door for him. Stiles slid in and stuck the key in the ignition before looking back at the werewolf. Derek's expression was soft with a hint of concern and it warmed Stiles’ heart. He'd definitely changed and become a better alpha in the past few years while letting Stiles aid them in many different ways.

“Be safe tonight,” he said in quiet voice.

“You too.” Derek shut the door firmly and stepped aside, watching Stiles drive away.

 

Dusk came far quicker than Stiles had anticipated. He checked his bag three times before skimming through the instructions on his laptop, tapping his fingers against the desk anxiously.

“Stiles?” He turned to see his father standing in the doorway, brow creased with concern.

“Yo, dad, what's up?” he asked casually.

The two stared at each other for a long moment before the sheriff sighed. “Scott's here.”

Stiles tensed, then he hunched back over the desk. “I don't want to see him.”

“Look, I don't know what happened between you two, but you're best friends. Just talk to him.”

He bit his lip to keep from retorting, his father taking that as a hint to let the young alpha upstairs and himself disappear downstairs. He listened to Scott walk into the room and shuffle his feet before the creak of his mattress sounded.

“What do you want?” Stiles inquired, voice void of emotion.

“Lydia told me what you're doing,” Scott replied. Sighing, he scrubbed a hand down his face, mentally kicking himself for even asking for help from the banshee. “You shouldn't do it.”

Stiles spin around and glared at Scott. “And why not?”

“It's too dangerous.”

“How do you know?”

“Lydia looked up the spell you're going to do. It's not safe.”

Stiles held back another sigh, rolling his eyes instead. “I've researched this spell and looked into it probably far more than she has. You know why? Because I'm casting the spell, not her. Thanks for the concern.”

“It's not you I'm worried about,” Scott snapped, jumping to his feet. “It's the whole town.”

“I'm doing it to protect everyone in Beacon Hills, Scott!”

“Not with Derek you're not!” Stiles stilled and narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched in anger. “There's not a bond between you two. At least let me help you. You'll be a lot stronger with a true alpha, with me.”

“Why? Because we have a ‘bond’?” Scott nodded firmly and Stiles threw his hands up in frustration. “Even if we do have a bond, it's not nearly as strong as it used to be!” Scott leaned back in surprise. “Remember that troll roaming around the preserve a few weeks ago? Well, guess who didn't answer their ‘best friend's’ phone call?”

Without waiting for a response, he pulled his shirt up to reveal a huge purple and red bruise above his ribs. Scott inhaled sharply, reaching out toward him. Stiles dropped his shirt and stepped back. “I nearly got my head smashed in and you never came. You always said to call if you needed anything and whenever I do, you're too busy screwing Allison into whatever surface you can to answer. Derek and his pack have been there for me when you weren't. So you can snap and beg and whine all you want, but I'm doing this. Without you.”

He slammed his laptop shut and brushed past the werewolf, ignoring the small ache in his heart from seeing the broken expression on Scott's face. He grabbed his bag and slung one strap over his shoulder, briefly glancing back before he walked out of the room.

His father turned to him from the couch and stood, meeting him at the front door.

“You know what you're doing?” his father asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

The older Stilinski nodded, rubbing his bare chin. “I'm sorry about Scott.”

“Yeah, sorry you had to hear that.”

“Don't be.” Stiles paused and really looked at his father. Wrinkles covered his face, hair graying on the sides and back of his head. He was a bit more hunched over than Stiles had seen him in a long time, pale blue eyes full of worry and concern. But there was a hint of pride and love in their depths as they looked at each other. “You're happier. Ever since you joined Derek's pack, you've been a lot happier and more optimistic. If being with them helps you, then I don't care who you're friends with. I want what's best for you, son.”

Blinking back a sudden onset of tears, he slammed into the older man, pulling him into a tight hug. He felt his father's arm encircle him, one hand holding him close by the back of his head. “I'm proud of you, Stiles.”

“Thanks, dad,” Stiles whispered.

They slowly pulled away and the sheriff slapped his shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifting up slightly. “Be careful.”

Stiles gave him a reassuring smile, then turned and opened the front door and walking out to his car. Erica stood beside it, leaning against the passenger door and picking at her nails.

“Took you long enough,” she grumbled.

“It just got dark out here,” Stiles responded, unlocking the jeep with a click of the keys and setting his bag in the back. “Chill.”

“I'll chill when this is over and done with.”

They both climbed into the car and Stiles turned it on, then glanced at her. “Nervous?”

“Seeing how this could either keep all supernatural creatures out of our town for the rest of our lives or send hoards of them upon us, yeah. Little bit.”

“You need to have more faith in me.” He rested his hand on hers when she buckled herself in, holding her gaze even though she was glaring. “I know you're scared. But you have to believe in me. It's the only way this will work.”

The glare vanished, instantly replaced with one of alarm. “But you said it's fine with just our bond.”

“It is. Believing in me helps make me stronger, though. I'm a spark before I'm an emissary, remember?”

He patted her hand and then placed both hands on the wheel as he drove toward the preserve.

 

By the time they set everything up, it was close to ten at night. The sky was clear, the air brisk, even through his jacket.

Stiles pulled the stone out of his pocket and glanced back at Erica, who stood a few feet away, holding her phone up to her ear. She met his gaze and gave him a thumbs up. Taking a deep breath, lungs stinging from the cold, he walked deeper into the woods. Déjà vu hit him as he wandered further away from Erica, the phantom roar of the waterfall sounding in his ears.

When he couldn't see Erica anymore, he stopped and glanced down at the mountain ash line, the tips of his sneakers centimeters from touching it. He looked at the stone held firmly in his hand then crouched down and set it in the middle of the dark ash. He placed his index and middle finger on its cool surface and closed his eyes. The warmth in his bosom grew in heat as he opened his senses to the earth around him. He let it flow up into his chest, across his shoulders, down into his legs and arms, toes and fingers. Once he felt the heat in the fingertips that were resting on the stone, he let it grow in intensity.

His breath suddenly became shorter, a heavy throb pounding in his head. He grit his teeth, realizing he needed more power, and felt for the bonds around his heart. One was cool and soft, Isaac; the second warm and loose, Erica; third, warm and thick and strong, Boyd; the last matching the heat in his body, comforting and powerful, Derek. He let the feelings of those bonds slither down to the stone and pushed, shoving it all into the hard surface at his feet.

A whisper caressed his face and the heat suddenly faded, luke-warm as it returned to his bosom. The crisp night air enveloped him and he fell back, fatigue washing over him.

He stared up at the night sky, feeling a slight thrum underneath him. A sigh left his lips, relief taking the weight off his shoulders.

He got to his feet and peered down at where the rock had been. In its place was a hard, melted substance, the mountain ash having the same features. He smiled and felt a swell of pride in his chest.

A sudden loud crack sounded and he looked up, catching a large shadow shifting in the trees.

“Who's there?” he called out.

A strangled hiss followed more cracks and a tall, thin figure stepped out from behind a tree. Its arms were long and stiff, head made of twigs and small branches. It seemed to stand several feet taller than him and cold sense of dread washed over him.

Stiles cursed when he realized it was a wood nymph, tensing to run, then paused. The creature couldn't get past the mountain ash barrier. He was safe.

The strange sound it had made came again, this time louder, the trees around him shaking. It lifted an arm sharply and large branches shot out where its hand would be.

“You can't hurt me,” Stiles shouted, gesturing to the barrier. “This thing prevents you from-”

A pained grunt left his lips as the branches from the nymph pierced through him in several places. He looked down at the barrier to see the creature had gone past it, but before he could question it, he was being lifted into the air. He cried out, grabbing onto one of the branches still in him. In the next second, he was was flying through the air, the branches ripping out of his body. His back hit a tree trunk, knocking the breath out of him, and he fell to the ground.

Cracks and hisses sounded, getting louder and closer, and he fell silent, holding back any groans that might slip out. He glanced up to see the nymph walking past him, not acknowledging him in any way.

The moment he could barely hear it moving through the trees, he let out a shaky breath, lungs aching from lack of air. He pushed himself up on his elbows then whimpered in pain, his whole body aching. Blood dropped out of his mouth and he wished he could see how bad it was, but he could barely move.

Distant crashing sounded and he whined softly. He couldn't face that thing again, it would kill him. He rested his forehead on the ground and just focused on breathing, the crashing noises growing louder.

“Stiles!” A heavy breath left his lips followed by a wet cough, blood splattering out. He lifted his head and watched Erica race toward him, falling to her knees at his side. “I heard your cry and some weird sound, and then I smelled blood. Stiles, what happened?”

“Nymph,” he uttered. “I…”

“What did it do to you? Did the spell not work?”

“I don't...know. It was outside...the barrier and then it...it wasn't.” He grunted as he tried to pull himself upright, Erica gripping his forearm in an attempt to help him. Her sharp intake of breath had him attempting to look at her, but his vision was blurry, his peripheral darkening. “W-What?”

“Stiles, I have to get you to the hospital. You're bleeding everywhere.”

He could hear her voice still, but couldn't make out the words. The rest of his vision went dark and he felt a whisper dance off his tongue before he fell unconscious.

 

A repeated beeping reached his ears, followed by a heavy sigh on his right. He tried to open his eyes, but everything felt too heavy.

Footsteps echoed into the room and some shifting from the same direction as the sigh sounded.

“You find him?” he heard his father ask, voice just barely above a whisper.

“No.” Erica, and she sounded scared. “We looked everywhere he would be.”

“Even his old house?”

“Yeah. Nothing.” More shifting and a sniffle sounded and Stiles decided enough was enough. He fought through the heaviness until his eyes opened, then wished he hadn't done that when a bright white light blinded him.

“Stiles?” his father said, wood creaking under him as Stiles assumed he leaned toward him.

Stiles blinked a few times then rolled his head toward the older man. Erica stood beside the sheriff, worry and fear written all over her face.

“Wh-” Stiles’ voice broke when he tried to speak and his father helped him drink from a water cup. “What's going on?”

His father let out a heavy sigh and shifted his gaze to the bed. “First off, what happened with the barrier?”

Memories of going into the preserve and the nymph attack rushed back to him and he slowly shook his head. “It worked. I felt it. But the nymph still got through.”

“Yeah, it did. It attacked you, too. Nearly killed you. If Erica hadn't shown up…”

The young man turned to them once more and reached for his father's hand, gripping it as tight as possible. “I didn't know it was there or that it would happen, I swear. But we had everything set up just in case something like that happened. Are the others ok?” The sheriff and Erica shared a look and Stiles felt his stomach drop. “What? Who?”

“Derek went missing after I brought you here,” Erica explained. “Peter said he just ran off suddenly last night before we even called them. He's not answering his phone and we can't find him anywhere.”

The heart monitor on his left started getting louder as his heart began racing. “Did he say where he was going? What he was doing?” Erica shook her head and Stiles cursed. He tried to sit up only to fall back as sharp pain rushed through his whole body. “How bad?”

His father grimaced as Erica grabbed a chair and sat down, placing her hand on Stiles’ leg to take away any pain. “Pierced lung, about three cracked ribs, a few compression fractures in your spine, several torn muscles in your arms and legs, and a few intestinal tears as well. Melissa said the doctors stitched you up as best they could, but you're on mandatory bed rest for at least a month.”

Stiles sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment, sorting through his jumbled thoughts and trying not to be angry. But he was and that upset him more. He felt his father pull away and gently pat his arm.

“I'm gonna go get Melissa, have her come check on you,” he told him.

Stiles nodded and listened to his father leave the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He turned to Erica, who was sitting in the same spot, eyes focused on him. He held his hand out for her and she moved to his father's seat, taking his hand, black lines sliding up her arm.

“Are you okay?”

“Your heart almost stopped, Stiles. And then Derek went missing and we can't find him anywhere…” She whimpered and wiped her eyes.

“We'll find him. I'm sure he didn't go far.” He gently squeezed her hand. He glanced at his cup, knowing she needed a distraction, then pulled his hand away slowly. “Could you go get me some fresh ice water please?”

She nodded, grabbed his cup and hurried out of the room.

He sighed, then turned his thoughts to the alpha of the Hale Pack. Worry slithered into his mind and he glanced around for his phone, spotting it on the desk next to him. He winced in pain as he reached for it, then scrolled through his contacts, hovering over Derek's name.

He glanced up at a sudden muffled commotion out in the hallway, thuds sounding against the outer wall. Then the door was abruptly knocked off its hinges, slamming onto the floor, Derek on his hands and knees atop it. Stiles sat up a little, ignoring the pain the movement caused, and stilled. Red eyes flickered around the room, sharp claws digging into the white paint, a low growl rumbling through clenched fangs. He had no shirt on, only jeans and shoes, skin covered in dry blood, jeans torn up in several places.

“Derek?” Stiles whispered, worry clenching at his heart.

Those bright eyes landed on him and he tensed, muscles crying out. The growling stopped and the wolf crawled over to him, his movements slow and animalistic. Stiles held his breath as Derek's claws dug into the sheets and he pulled himself up, gaze roaming over Stiles’ face. He leaned in close, nostrils flaring as he inhaled a few times, breath caressing Stiles’ cheeks.

“Derek?!” Erica shrieked from the front door, water cup clattering to the floor.

Derek spun around and crouched down low, one clawed hand still on the bed by Stiles’ arm. Loud, harsh growling reverberated off the walls as the sheriff stumbled in after Erica, gun drawn, with Melissa peeking over his shoulder.

“Dad, don't!” Stiles told him, holding one hand up. “Guys, just wait a second. He's not in his right mind.”

“Then what the hell do you want us to do?! We can't get to you, Stiles!” his father shouted.

“Just…” He looked at Derek for a long moment, noticed his tense muscles, the growling just as strong and persistent, if not louder. And he wasn’t calming down in the slightest. “Back out of the room.”

His father's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Hell no!”

“John,” Melissa's soft voice came from behind him, her hand resting on his shoulder. “Maybe we should…”

“No! I'm not leaving Stiles alone again with one of them!”

“ _Dad_ ,” Stiles snapped when Erica's face pinched with hurt. His father scowled at him, gun lowered. “I'll be fine. Just go out in the hall for a minute. I want to test something out.”

Reluctantly holstering his gun, his father let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. But I'll be right outside the door. Literally.”

Stiles nodded and watched them all slowly leave, then turned his attention to the alpha still growling at his side.

“Derek,” he said in soft voice, placing his hand over the one still on the bed. Derek's head snapped in his direction, growl becoming a snarl. Then those red eyes met his and all harsh sounds stopped instantly. “It's okay, Derek. I'm okay.” Derek huffed then pulled himself up again, this time shoving his face into the side of Stiles’ neck. Stiles chuckled as hot breaths of air tickled his skin and he reached his other hand up, lightly touching Derek's bicep. The other man made a rumbling noise then climbed onto the mattress, holding himself above him, both hands on either side of his head.

“What happened, Der?” Stiles ran his hand up and down Derek's arm soothingly, bearing his neck for the alpha. Derek didn't respond, just continued his scenting. Stiles sighed, but let him continue his work until his neck ached. “Derek, move. You gotta move.” Derek huffed, then he felt something warm and wet slide across his skin. “Dude, did you just lick me?!”

Derek pulled back and looked down at him, head tilted slightly in confusion.

“Stiles, what happened?! I heard a yell!” his father exclaimed, barreling back into the room. The alpha turned to him and started growling again, red eyes glaring.

“Dad, I'm fine! Just go back out!”

“Stiles-”

“I'm serious, dad.” His father gave him a wary look then slowly left the room. Stiles gently squeezed the tight muscle on Derek's arm and those red eyes turned back to him, the growling halting. “What's going on with you?”

Derek grunted, then bent over him and started snuffling along his torso. He growled impatiently then pulled the sheet down with a clawed hand, running his nose lightly over Stiles’ bandages. After a few moments of sniffing, his tongue darted out, a low whine sounding in his throat.

“A nymph kind of messed me up,” Stiles told him as he moved his hand up to Derek's head, gently running his hand through the dark hair. His other hand lightly touched some dried blood on Derek's shoulder, brow lowering in concern. “Now what happened to you?”

Derek face appeared inches from his own and he squeaked in surprise. Those bright red eyes seemed to take in everything before Derek was slowly lowering himself on top of him, head resting in between Stiles’ neck and shoulder.

“Derek, no, you're too heavy for this,” Stiles wheezed as Derek put his whole weight on top of him. His body immediately started protesting and he groaned in pain. Derek's head shot up, eyes wide with concern. “I'm hurt, remember?”

Derek glanced down at his torso then back up into his eyes before he shifted onto his side, leaving one arm draped over him, face nuzzled into Stiles’ neck.

Stiles closed his eyes and went back to gently running his fingers through Derek's hair, relaxing as the other man relaxed.

Melissa peered in a few minutes later and Stiles glanced at her, nodding when Derek didn't move, the alpha’s eyes closed, his whole body relaxed.

“He gave us quite the scare,” she whispered, smiling, as she quietly made her way over to the other side of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I hurt,” Stiles whispered back honestly, knowing it was pointless to lie to her. “Do we know why Derek isn't acting like himself?”

Melissa frowned as she checked his IVs. “Unfortunately, no. Your father called Peter and he has no idea what caused it or why Derek is like this. He had Boyd and Isaac stop by Deaton's office to get his opinion, though.”

“That's good.”

“As for you, I talked to the doctor and he said you should be ready to go home tomorrow. Just lots of bed rest, no quick movements and only soft food for a while. We don't think your stomach can handle a lot right now.” Stiles nodded as he watched her fiddle with the IV in his hand then met her gaze. “How's your pain?” Stiles shrugged one shoulder so as not to disturb Derek. “Stiles. Tell me truth.”

“Well, if it was on a scale of one to ten, it's probably around a seven right now,” he mumbled, glancing at Derek. “But I'll be fine. I need to make sure Derek's okay, anyways.”

“I'm sure he's alright. I'm mostly worried about you. Let me go get those meds and I'll be right back.” She touched his cheek and gave him a smile before quietly leaving the room.

He looked back at Derek, chills running over him as hot puffs of breath whispered across his neck. At this close distance, he could make out dark circles under Derek's eyes, the dried blood scattered in random places along his body. If Stiles didn't know any better, it would seem that he went after the nymph. He worried his bottom lip until Melissa returned and Derek's eyes popped open, a soft growl vibrating his chest. Stiles shushed him then relaxed fully against the pillow, watching Melissa do her work.

“Get some rest. I'll tell your dad you're good to go home in the morning,” she told him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, fingers stilling in Derek's hair as he closed his eyes and slipped into a deep slumber.

 

Growling woke him the next morning, the sunlight peeking through the blinds. He turned his head to find Derek standing beside his bed, glaring at Scott who stood against the far wall, tense. His gaze was flickering between Stiles and Derek and he didn't seem to know quite what to do.

“Why are you here?” Stiles asked, noting how Derek's growls faltered when he spoke.

Scott's gaze finally landed on him and he took a step forward. Derek snarled and Scott jumped, but held his ground.

“I heard what happened and came to check on you,” he told him, watching Derek carefully.

“Yeah? And what? Say ‘I told you so’?”

Scott hung his head slightly in shame. “It was dangerous.”

“Oh my—get out!”

Scott looked at him sharply. “What? Why? I just came to check up on you!”

“And now you have, so leave!”

Scott glared. “What the hell is wrong with you? I'm just trying to be a good friend!”

“Best friends don't leave friends to die. Not even good friends do that. So just get out!”

The sheriff walked in then and looked at the scene before him, placing his hands on his belt. “What's going on?”

“Can you get Scott to leave? I don't want to see him right now,” Stiles said.

His father glanced at the young alpha and jerked his head to the open doorway. “Let's go.”

Scott sighed and scowled at the floor before walking out of the room. Stiles sent his father a grateful look before the older man followed Scott out. Derek's growling quieted and he peered down at Stiles.

“I'm okay, big guy,” he mumbled before yawning. “You still the same as last night?”

Derek snorted then leaned over him, sniffing. Stiles noted his eyes were hazel once more, the green more pronounced in the sunlight. The dark circles under his eyes were lighter which gave Stiles a sense of relief, knowing the alpha had slept well.

“Morning, Stiles,” Melissa greeted as she walked into the room. “Ready to go home?”

Derek started to growl at her but stopped and gave Stiles a confused look when Stiles smacked his chest. “I would love that.”

The dark haired woman smiled and went about taking out his IVs. Once she was done, she wandered over to the closet and pulled out a set of neatly folded pajamas, setting it on the end of the bed.

“I'll have your father come in here and help you get dressed. He's just seeing Scott out and signing your release forms.”

“Thanks, Ms. McCall.” He gave her a warm smile as she winked at him and left the room.

He turned to Derek to see the alpha staring intensely at him, brow pulled down slightly. “What?” Derek huffed then nuzzled into his neck, tickling his skin with his scruff and breath. Stiles giggled and gently pushed at Derek only to hear a soft rumble sound deep in the wolf's chest.

“Is this something I'm going to have to worry about when he's back to himself?” his father inquired, having suddenly appeared at the end of his bed.

“No, no, not at all,” Stiles said quickly, giving Derek one last push that had him standing upright and glancing over at the sheriff. Surprisingly, he made no noise, just eyed him warily. “It's a pack thing. A wolf thing. I don't know. It's weird. And Derek's not himself, so…”

His father nodded then grabbed the curtain and pulled it around the bed, blocking the view from the window and doorway. The older man gave Derek a pointed look, but the alpha just blinked at him.

“It's fine, dad.” His father glanced at him then sighed and pulled the sheets down. He walked to the other side of the bed and helped Stiles into a sitting position, pulling the hospital gown off his body.

A low growl sounded from Derek and they both jumped slightly, glancing back at him. Hazel eyes glowed red, focused on the sheriff, lips pulled back to reveal sharp fangs.

“Derek, it's okay,” Stiles said slowly, staring at him. Derek's gaze flickered to Stiles’ and the growling lowered, his body tense. Stiles nodded at his father and watched him move out of the corner of his eye. A moment later, a shirt was being put over his head. He slipped his arms into the proper holes and glanced back at Derek, the alpha completely quiet now save for a few loud huffs, teeth hidden behind tight lips.

“Stiles, focus,” his father snapped, holding out a pair of briefs.

Stiles scowled at the top of his father's head, helping him slip the piece of clothing on. “I'm trying to make sure Derek doesn't jump over this bed and murder you. Unless you want that to happen. If you do, that's really morbid and not cool. I don't know who I'd be mad at the most.”

His father sighed and helped him to his feet, making sure he didn't topple over as he adjusted his briefs. His legs nearly gave out, though, when his father let go to grab his pants. He was pulled back on the bed abruptly and it took him a second to realize that Derek had grabbed the back of his shirt. He sent him a grateful smile over his shoulder and slipped into his pajama bottoms while staying on the mattress.

“I'll go get a wheelchair real quick for you,” his father stated.

“No need.” Melissa walked into the room, pushing said object into the room and to the side of the bed where the sheriff stood. Together, they helped him move from the mattress to the chair.

“Thank you, Melissa,” his father sighed and Stiles could just imagine the look he was giving the nurse.

“It's no problem,” she replied before leaning over to look at Stiles with a smile. “Take it easy, okay?”

“Yes ma'am,” he said, returning her smile.

His dad wheeled him out of the room, Derek hurrying after them and walking beside Stiles, glowering at anyone who glanced their way.

They reached the cruiser that was parked out in the front a few minutes later. His father helped him into the front seat and then let Melissa take the wheelchair back inside. Stiles stifled a laugh at the constipated look Derek was giving him, eyes looking at the small seat, then the driver's seat and the open door. His father put his hands on his hips and watched the wolf try to figure out where to go for a few seconds before he shook his head and opened the back door.

“Go on in, kid,” his father told him, gesturing to the back seat. Derek's eyes widened a fraction as he looked at Stiles and Stiles swore he heard the man whine.

“It's okay, Der, I'll be right here,” Stiles told him. He reached his hand between the two front seats and wiggled his fingers. Derek's eyes caught the movement and he slowly, reluctantly, clambered into the back, the older Stilinski shutting the door behind him.

Derek whined again, sniffing the leather seats, before he found Stiles’ hand. He nosed at it for a few seconds before he lathered it with his wet tongue, then slotted his hand into Stiles’ grip. Stiles glanced back to see the man curled into a ball, staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. He gave the alpha’s hand a gentle squeeze after his father got in the vehicle and drove out of the parking lot.

The drive home was silent save for the few whimpers and whines coming from Derek. Any time he made sound of distress, Stiles gently tightened his grip, reassuring.

They pulled up in the driveway and his father turned the car off, shifting in his seat with a stern look.

“He's not going in your room,” he said.

Stiles glanced back at Derek who only returned his gaze, fear evident on his features. “I don't know, dad… He seems to only be comfortable around me.”

“I said no, Stiles.”

Stiles scowled at his father then rolled his eyes. “Can we just go inside?”

Without responding, his father got out and opened the back door on his way to Stiles’ side. Stiles pulled his hand out of Derek's hold, wincing at the ache in his shoulder from holding his arm in such an awkward position.

Derek let out a piercing whine, startling both Stilinski's. They turned to him as he scrambled forward in the seat, reaching for Stiles and squeezing himself between the front seats.

His dad practically yanked him out of the vehicle when Derek's claws barely grazed Stiles’ arm, leaving only a small scratch mark.

“Derek, no, stop!” Stiles yelled. The alpha halted and looked toward Stiles. “Yeah, I'm right here, big guy. Just go this way.” He dragged his father over to the back door of the car and tapped Derek's leg. Derek jerked back and frantically climbed out, wrapping his arms around Stiles and burying his face in his neck, sniffing. Stiles placed his hands on the middle of Derek's back, his body protesting against any further movement. “It's okay, Derek, I'm right here.”

He heard his father let out a breath and glanced at him. “We have got to figure out what's going on with him.”

“Agreed.” He gently rubbed the alpha’s back and whispered into his ear. “I need to sit down, Der. Let's go inside and cuddle there. Come on.”

Derek lifted his head and glanced at him and, for a moment, Stiles thought he was back to normal. But then the man let out a huff and picked him up bridal style, following his father into the house.

Derek carried him up to his room, ignoring his father's shouts, and carefully set him on his bed.

Stiles smiled up at him. “Thanks, Der.”

Derek huffed once more, then laid down beside him and started sniffing his neck, one arm tossed over his stomach. Stiles looked up as his father rushed in and paused, both realizing Derek was in the same position he'd been in at the hospital.

“I think he just needs to make sure I'm okay,” he told his dad, brushing through Derek's hair with his fingers. “Would you call Deaton, though? I want to know if he knows what's up.”

“Yeah, I'll do that,” his father responded, giving Derek one last confused look before disappearing down the hall.

Stiles turned back to Derek and watched the alpha's eyes flutter shut. He continued to play with Derek's hair while he listened to his father shuffle around downstairs and take a few calls.

After a while, Derek's breathing had slowed, eyes fully shut, completely lax against him. Stiles leaned his head back on his pillow, blinking up at the ceiling.

“I called Deaton,” his father said softly from the doorway. Stiles looked back at him expectantly. “He says it's something Derek will have to tell you when he's back to himself.”

“And when will that be?”

His father shrugged one shoulder. “He's not sure.  Said it could be a few hours, a day, a week. But he did say with certainty that Derek will be back to normal in no time. It's just up to him when that will be.”

Stiles sighed and lay back. “This whole bed rest thing is gonna suck. Especially if I have a giant heater up against me the whole time.”

The old man let out a chuckle. “Melissa's going to be dropping off some soup after her shift. I'll bring some to you when she stops by.”

“Okay, thanks.”

His father left, leaving the door wide open. Stiles grinned at his father's obvious worry before looking back at Derek.

“Why do you have to tell me and not Deaton?” he whispered into the quiet room. Of course, he didn't get a response, so he decided to let the exhaustion from the morning's excitement pull him into a dreamless sleep.

 

Some shifting and sounds of movement in the room brought him out of unconsciousness and he blinked a few times. It was darker in his room, though sunlight was still trying to creep its way through his closed blinds. He glanced over to the side of the bed that Derek had fallen asleep on only to find him standing by his desk, watching him.

“Whoa, dude,” he startled, flailing. His muscles cried out in pain and groaned, falling back against his pillow. He heard a light shuffle and peered over to see Derek had moved slightly closer, brow pulled down with worry. “You scared me. Geez.”

“Sorry,” Derek simply said. “How are you feeling?”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment, open mouthed. “How am I feeling? That's the first thing you can think of to say?” He slowly sat up, scowling at Derek while ignoring the pain. “You've been out of your mind for—hell, I don't even know how long!”

The worry on the alpha's face switched to irritation in an instant. “It was the first coherent thought I've had in the past forty-eight hours.”

“Forty...How long was I out?”

“Your father said just over twenty-four hours.”

“Damn. Where were you? The pack said they lost you when you ran off the night I put the barrier up.”

Derek's expression softened and he walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge by Stiles’ feet. Silence followed for a long moment and impatience itched at Stiles’ skin, but he knew Derek would speak when he was ready. “I went looking for you. Then I went after the nymph when I caught the scent of your blood in the preserve.”

“You killed it,” Stiles stated.

“Yeah. After that, I went back to looking for you. All I could smell was your blood and it was driving me and my wolf insane, not being able to find you.” Stiles scooted forward a bit and lightly touched Derek's shoulder. Derek glanced at him and gave a small smile. “I passed the hospital and turned back when I realized your scent was strongest there. The rest you know.”

Stiles hummed then shook his head. “It doesn't make sense though.” Derek raised a brow curiously. “The nymph that attacked me was outside the barrier. How did it get in?”

“I overheard your father talking to Deaton about it. Deaton said that it could’ve made the preserve its home before that night and since it had magic of its own, it was able to bypass yours and go through the barrier.”

“Weird. But there's one thing I still don't understand. How did you know to look for me? You weren't even close to where Erica and I were.”

Derek stiffened under his touch, so Stiles traced tiny circles on his shoulder with his thumb. “As a pack, we have bonds with each other individually and as a whole.” Stiles nodded in understanding, encouraging him to continue. “Since you're the emissary and I'm the alpha, our bond is already stronger as it is. But, I guess, it's a lot stronger than I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

Derek turned to face Stiles fully and grabbed his free hand, his grip gentle as he stared into Stiles’ eyes. “After the mountain ash had burned into place, Peter and I were waiting for Erica's call. But then, out of nowhere, I felt our bond nearly disappear. Yours and mine. I could barely feel you, only if I focused on it hard enough was it there. You were dying, Stiles, and I practically lost my mind.”

Stiles blinked, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “You didn't feel that way when the hunters had Boyd and Isaac a while back, though.”

“I didn't, no. Have you noticed anything different when you're around me?”

“Like what?”

“Feelings of safety? Comfort? Peace?”

Stiles looked hard into those hazel eyes, blue shimmering through in the dim light. “I have, actually.”

Derek's grip on his hand tightened and he took on a deep breath. “Only mates can have a bond stronger than an emissary and alpha can, than any family ever could.”

“Mates? As in…” Stiles’ eyes widened and he went still. Derek's jaw clenched and he started to pull away. “Wait, Derek, that's…”

“I never said anything because I didn't want to overwhelm you,” Derek spoke softly, looking anywhere but at him.

Hurt shot through him and Stiles leaned back a bit. “You knew?”

Derek met his gaze once more, pain and shame reflected in their depths. “You were just out of high school, Stiles. You were starting your training with Deaton and helping Scott with his pack while fighting off all different kinds of monsters with us. I couldn't burden you with that.”

“You do realize I've had a crush on you for a while now, right?”

Derek nodded, moving his gaze to the blankets between them. “I could smell the arousal on you sometimes.”

Stiles grabbed Derek's face and forced him to meet his gaze once more. “Then how could you possibly think I'd be burdened with the knowledge of us being mates?!”

Derek seemed to shrink into himself as he shrugged. “Your hands were full with so much, and then Scott…”

“Oh, shut up.” Stiles pulled Derek closer and smashed their lips together, eyes slipping shut. He felt Derek tense under in touch, lips frozen in place. He slid his hands down the side of Derek's face, then neck and down to his shoulders, hoping to help him relax. Derek seemed to melt into his touch, then, and kissed him back fervently, hands resting on his elbows. Their lips melded together, breath coming in hot pants. Stiles poured all he felt for the alpha into that one kiss - love, compassion, gratitude. His tightened his grip on Derek's shoulders as he licked Derek's lips, the alpha's mouth falling open.

But before Stiles could dart his tongue in, Derek pulled away, chest heaving.

“Wha…” Stiles tried, dazed.

“We have to stop,” Derek told him.

Stiles blinked. “Why?”

“Because if we keep going, I won't be able to hold myself back.” Derek rested his forehead against Stiles’, gazing into his eyes. “You're too injured for anything more right now.”

Stiles sighed. “Fine. But when I'm better, no holding back.”

Derek chuckled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Deal.”

“What the hell?” Stiles and Derek turned to see the sheriff standing in the doorway, a steaming bowl in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. The older Stilinski grumbled and glared a warning at Derek as he walked in and set the items down before walking right back out.

“He should've seen this coming,” Stiles said, grabbing the water bottle. “I've been your emissary for six months now.”

Derek's eyebrows rose. “He knew about your feelings for me?”

“I can't hide anything from that man.” Derek laughed, a warm sound that brought a smile to Stiles lips. “I’m glad I joined your pack, Derek.”

“I'm glad you joined it, too.” Stiles took a long gulp of water from the bottle, feeling Derek's gaze on him. “I'm sorry things didn't work out with Scott.”

Stiles shrugged and set the bottle back on his nightstand. “I have you, the pack, and my dad. He was a jerk after he met Allison, anyway.”

Derek smiled. “You make a pretty badass emissary, Stiles. He's an idiot for losing you.”

“More for you to gain,” Stiles told him, smiling back as he gently laid back down, patting the spot beside him. Derek relaxed onto the mattress, grabbing and holding Stiles’ hand.

“I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“You don't have to worry about that. I'm here now.” Stiles brushed his fingers over Derek's scruff, smile still on his lips. He shifted over and rested his head on Derek's arm. “You didn't mention one thing about how I feel around you.” Derek hummed inquisitively, twiddling their thumbs. “It feels right. Like I belong here with you.”

Derek's hum morphed into a low rumble and he pulled Stiles closer. “Good.”

Stiles closed his eyes and let the feelings of safety and rightness wash over him, everything else momentarily forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I missed a tag!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ♡
> 
>  
> 
> [I'm still on Tumblr so come say hi!](https://novkat21.tumblr.com)


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